


How to say Thank You

by thecannabiskid



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, misuse of a ferris wheel cabin, mr robot is that one text post about knowing useless facts, pls take these useless facts and share them with your friends ur gonna be so cool i promise, still dont have an exact hand on writing these fuckers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4467203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecannabiskid/pseuds/thecannabiskid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elliot needs to thank Mr. Robot for staying with him while he came down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to say Thank You

          He spends the subway rides thinking about how to thank Mr. Robot. That’s what people do when someone does something nice. Genuinely nice. You can’t just say okay. He runs a hand through his hair. Fuck. This is a stupid idea. How does he say thank you. Thank you for sitting with me while I came down. Thank you for not giving in and finding me a hit. He’s walking towards the… Hideout? That sounds stupid as hell. He’s pushing the door open and he’s surprised, no one’s there. He should back out now.  “Elliot!” Fuck. _Fuck._

          “Yo,” _stupid._

          “What can I do for you kiddo?” God why is he so nervous. He can’t back out he’ll just send Darlene to his house to make sure he’s okay. Fuck he can’t afford another lock, last time she kicked the fucking door in, doors are fucking expensive, she ruined the whole frame, Flipper almost got out, it was a nightmare.

          “Ferris wheel?”

          “You know I was just going to head over that way,” God they fucked, right, or was that a hallucination? He can’t remember and Mr. Robot is hugging him. Does he look like he needs affection? Darlene told him he looked like a kicked dog if the dog had goldfish eyes. He didn’t say anything and she laughed.

          Despite the way Mr. Robot dresses, he smells fantastic. He has this, before it rains, smell, mixed with something sharp. He takes a breath. Something with a black label and white letters, something expensive for sure. It throws him off but it’s nice and he’s got his face buried against Mr. Robot’s shoulder. He’s being hugged. He doesn’t flinch out of it. That’s new.

          They walk, Elliot’s got his hands shoved in his jacket, one of the seams in the pocket broke and he’s gotta figure out how to fix it. Shayla will help him out, he hopes. “Where do you live?”

          “That’s personal, Elliot.” He makes a face at him. Darlene knows where he lives. Does she know where Mr. Robot lives? Does he live behind the concession stand in the hideout? He’s seen a blanket back there before. He doesn’t focus on what Mr. Robot’s saying when they get in the cabin. God it’s a metal death trap.

          He doesn’t like Ferris Wheels.  Not entirely. Not the way Mr. Robot likes them. The way the joints of each cabin squeaks slowly puts Elliot on edge. He doesn’t like it. Mr. Robot is talking at him. “You know the ferris wheel is named after George Washington Gale Ferris junior,” Elliot nods absently. This doesn’t feel like enough, the ride doesn’t feel like enough.

          He drops to his knees, slots himself between the others and looks up at him, this seems like enough. The way Mr. Robot breathes his next words indicates that this, this is surely enough. “Elliot?” Fuck. He wasn’t listening. Did he say to stop? Fuck.

          “I’m listening.” He says it slowly. He lies. He’s sure Mr. Robot knows. The cabin creaks and he looks up at him and waits for permission. Does he really look like a goldfish, God, he has to stop listening to Darlene.

          It’s a tongue flick. Mr. Robot’s tongue touching the left corner of his bottom lip and he manages a husky _go for it kiddo_ and Elliot presses his cheek against Mr. Robot’s thigh, breathes hot against the growing bulge in the others pants as he works the belt and button off and he looks back up again. “Thank you,” Elliot says and Mr. Robot laughs.

          “You’re thanking me?” Elliot makes a face and nods. He mouths at the fabric of Mr. Robot’s briefs. He smells like detergent. Lemongrass and something else that doesn’t exactly mix with it, he can’t place it. Lavender? It almost smells like patchouli. He lets his tongue drag against the material before pulling him through the cut in his briefs. “Christ,” Elliot licks the head, can feel his stomach wobble as their cabin starts to move down. He swallows before wrapping his lips around the head, Mr. Robot is dragging him off, he frowns.

          He slides across the bench so his back is to the door of the cabin, blocking anyone from seeing what’s happening. “You wanna get caught?” Is all he says and Elliot shakes his head and moves, feels the cabin squeak as they head back up and he’s got his hands on Mr. Robot’s thighs, takes him back into his mouth, swallows him down and the fingers that tangle in his hair are grounding. “God, Elliot,” his voice is rougher than normal and Elliot looks up, catches his eye and hollows his cheeks. “Christ, kid,” he hums, pulls off and breathes for a moment before working on the head. His hand strokes the rest, fast then slow as he tongues the slit of Mr. Robot’s cock.

          He doesn’t make much noise and it’s unsettling in this type of situation. He’s beginning to think he’s not doing it right. He hums again, twists his hand on an upstroke and Mr. Robot fills his mouth with his cum. He blinks a few times as the taste settles on his tongue. He swallows. It isn’t pleasant and it would be rude to spit. You don’t spit a _thank you_.

          He fixes up Mr. Robot’s pants and he’s being pulled up and kissed hard. This is nice, he thinks, pushes his fingers into Mr. Robot’s hair and it’s nice. It’s heated and when Mr. Robot nips his bottom lip he opens his mouth, makes a breathy little noise that has Mr. Robot smiling against his mouth.

          His hand sneaks up his thigh and palms Elliot through his jeans and the touch is electric and the whine that bubbles in the back of his throat is encouragement. The drag of fabric over his cock is nice, not as nice as skin would be. His pants are unbuttoned and he lets out a gasp as Mr. Robot’s hand molds against the shape of his cock and strokes him. “Can’t make a mess,” he mutters and Elliot gasps out something stupid like _yeah,_ it was probably an _okay_ if he thinks about it. Okay.

          He doesn’t remember the last time he came in his pants and he lets out a weak laugh, fights the urge to slouch into Mr. Robot. He’s got a growing damp spot on his boxers and he’s fixing his pants when he can feel his legs. “Wasn’t supposed to happen,” Elliot manages and Mr. Robot smiles at him.

          “Think of it as a _thank you_.” Shit. No, he was thanking him; it wasn’t supposed to be reciprocated. Fuck.

          “No, I was thanki-“

          “Elliot,” his voice is sharp, he moves to the other bench and slumps back, tries to even his breathing. “I know.”

          So he nods. This is how he says thank you. Thank you. Thank you for staying while I crashed and begged. Thank you for not leaving. Thank you.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I changed my url, it feels like I killed a piece of my soul but I wanted to change it up so okay.  
> I don't know how many switches you gotta make to get to the hideout lmfao god that sounds so goddamned lame but if any of you know foreal hmu I hate not knowing and I'm a little shaky with where he lives exactly so I don't wanna assume.  
> You can hmu on tumblr, all info is in my bio on here so seriously, that would be cool. I hope you enjoyed I have about three more of these almost finished up and I'll edit them and post them over the next few days.


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